Invasion of the Scorp-lions

by Bruce Hale

  “Hope they like the lure,” said Benny. Grabbing his stuffed bunny by the ears, he chucked it into the space between us and them—keeping tight hold of the leash.

  Instantly, the growling stopped. The scorp-lions sniffed the air. They sniffed some more. Then their cat eyes grew big as amber moons, staring at the stuffed animal. The milk was forgotten.

  “Funny,” I said, “how catnip gets a cat’s attention.”

  Good old Esme. With the help of her mother, she had stuffed a boatload of the herb into each of the toys.

  The biggest scorp-lion slunk forward a couple of paces toward the bunny. Benny tugged on the cord, dragging it backward. Rising, the other three monsters followed their leader.

  Benny backed up. “Heeere, stinging kitties,” he crooned. “Nice kitties.”

  I tossed my stuffed bear beside his toy, and two of the scorp-lions fixated on it. Step-by-step, we made our way toward the door, dragging the bait with us.

  Step-by-step, the scorp-lions followed. Desperate to catch up with the catnip, the biggest one pounced.

  “Yikes!” cried Benny. Reeling backward, he jerked the cord, twitching the stuffed toy out of range.

  I retreated with him. After nailing my shoulder on one of the boilers, I tried to split my attention between the path behind and the monsters ahead. It wasn’t easy.

  The scorp-lions stalked forward, picking up their pace.

  “They’re quick!” I said.

  The creatures began emitting a low moaning sound that thoroughly creeped me out. One of them got close enough to snatch at the stuffed bear with its pincer. I tugged the toy away.

  That was all we needed. If the monsters seized the bait before we could lure them outdoors, we’d never get them out of this place.

  “Almost there,” said Benny.

  I checked behind us. We were nearly at the exit, and still managing to keep just out of the scorp-lions’ reach.

  “Easy does it.” I stepped through the doorway.

  And then, Benny’s foot tangled in my leash, and he lost his balance. With hands full, he couldn’t catch himself. Bam! His head smacked into the doorframe, and he went down hard.

  “Benny!”

  The scorp-lions surged toward the toys and my fallen friend. I tensed. Somehow, I had to save both Benny and our plan.

  From deep down in my gut, the word “No!” erupted like a volcano. I lunged forward. With one hand, I yanked the leashes as hard as I could, hauling the toys across the threshold. With the other, I braced my shield over Benny.

  The monsters snarled.

  “Back, you catnip-sucking freaks!” I cried, feinting with the shield. The biggest monster clacked his front pincers and whipped his tail forward like a lash.

  Pummf! The stinger punctured my papier-mâché shield, an inch above my arm.

  “¡Ay huey!” So much for ancient Greek protection. Too late, I wished Benny and I had made ourselves some swords. Real swords. I crouched over him, shaking his shoulder.

  He moaned.

  “Come on, dude,” I said. “No time for napping.”

  The frustrated scorp-lions roared, gathering themselves for a charge. I braced myself. No way around it—we were done for.

  “Squirt gun,” Benny mumbled. “Pocket.”

  Fumbling his weapon free, I blasted it at the closest monsters. When the water hit, they hissed, recoiling. But they were no spider-cats. It would only buy us a few seconds.

  I jammed the squirt gun into my waistband, got a hand under Benny’s armpit, and lugged him to his feet. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”

  He groaned and retrieved his shield. “Stupid doorframe. My head hurts.”

  “If we don’t motor, that won’t be the only thing hurting.” I guided Benny outdoors, shoving his leash into his hand. “Tell me you can walk.”

  He took a couple of steps, as graceful as a baby giraffe on ice. “I can walk.”

  “Good enough for me. Let’s go.”

  As soon as we’d cleared the doorway, one of the scorp-lions stuck its head and pincers outside. It cringed, daunted by the late-afternoon sunlight.

  Jerking the cord to make the stuffed bear twitch and dance, I cried, “Don’t wimp out now! Fresh catnip. Num-num!”

  That did it. The creature focused on the bear again. It began doing that wiggly-butt stalking thing that cats do, and I waited until just before it pounced to yank the toy away. The monster followed, mesmerized.

  Behind it, the other three scorp-lions emerged, blinking, into the daylight. They zeroed in on Benny’s bunny.

  “Can you run yet?” I asked him.

  He grimaced. “Maybe a fast stumble.”

  “That’ll have to do.”

  Up the covered corridor we led them, like the Pied Pipers of Monterrosa, toward the multipurpose room. When we sped up, the monsters sped up. When they pounced, we twitched the stuffed toys out of their grasp.

  Slanting rays of sunshine turned the wet grass to emerald and sparkled off the creatures’ armored backs. It would’ve almost been pretty, if they hadn’t been highly dangerous freaks of nature.

  With the shields on our arms and the deadly scorp-lions stalking us, I had a brief flash of how those ancient Greek heroes might have felt. Noble, strong, and scared out of their wits.

  But all was going well enough, until…

  “Oh, they’re so cute!”

  Esme showed up.

  SHE POPPED OUT behind us like a Goth jack-in-the-box just as we turned the corner to the multipurpose room. “Look at those fluffy ears and curly tails,” Esme gushed. “You didn’t tell me these monsters were this adorable.”

  “They’re not,” Benny said.

  “Get back!” I cried.

  “But just look at them.” She sidled around me for a better view.

  I glanced behind us. Past her, maybe thirty feet away, stood the cages. Two Animal Control workers waited beside them, horrified and fascinated.

  So close. And yet…

  “Esme,” I said, “you promised you’d stay away.”

  She lifted a shoulder, flashing an apologetic grin. “I fibbed. Mom almost never lets me see her monsters, so I couldn’t resist the chance to check them out.”

  One of the scorp-lions snarled, disturbed by Esme’s presence. Distracted, the others peered her way.

  I jerked the teddy bear in front of them. “Come on. Keep those pincers pointed at me.”

  The monsters’ gaze went from Esme to the toy and back. But the catnip’s aroma was stronger than their curiosity. They resumed stalking.

  “Aw, do we have to give them to Animal Control?” she whined as the three of us backed up the hallway.

  Benny shot me a superior look. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but—no, wait, I love to say it. I told you so!”

  “These aren’t pet hamsters,” I told Esme, watching the scorp-lions. “They’ve already put a bunch of people in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, but—” she said.

  “Esme, no!” I snapped. Too late. She had slipped around me and was approaching the nearest scorp-lion, hand held out to pet it. Esme dodged my grab.

  “That’s a sweet monst—” she began.

  In an impressive display, the creature bared its fangs, clacked its pincers, and hissed, tail held high.

  Esme recoiled. “Naughty scorp-lion,” she scolded. “I’m your friend.”

  It roared. Down lashed the scorpion tail, and I gritted my teeth. But Esme was quicker than she looked. Ducking under its strike, she dodged out of harm’s way.

  “Well!” she huffed. “You’re a rude little thing.”

  I’d been so focused on her near disaster that I’d neglected to keep the stuffed toy out of reach. Seizing its chance, the lead scorp-lion pounced on the teddy bear.

  “No!” I cried.

  The monster pinned its prey with one paw and began rubbing its shaggy head against the fabric, purring like a beehive on a honey high. I hauled on the cord, but the scorp-lion was too strong. The
bear was trapped.

  I growled in frustration. If we didn’t get these creatures locked up pronto, they’d go dig in someplace new, stinging people right and left.

  “Leave it!” I feinted with my shield at the scorp-lion’s head.

  A hiss, and that needle-sharp tail came plunging down at me again. Once more, I blocked it with my shield—just barely. A drop of poison sizzled on my skin.

  We were locked in a standoff. I snatched a glance at Benny. He kept his bunny moving, but I could tell he didn’t want to lure the monsters past and let them get behind me. We were running out of time.

  “Bad monster!” Before I knew it, Tina darted in from out of nowhere, and smacked the scorp-lion on the nose with a fistful of rolled-up science-fair programs. It flinched, more surprised than hurt.

  I twitched the toy away. “Thanks, Karate Girl.”

  “What are friends for?” she said.

  I grinned. “Now stand back.”

  For once, she listened. As Tina retreated up the hall with us, I heard Esme telling her, “But they looked so friendly…”

  One of Benny’s monsters briefly snagged his stuffed toy with its claw, but he tugged the bunny free before the creature claimed it. The monsters were growing tired of our teasing. They wanted their sweet-smelling treat, and they wanted it now.

  Time to wrap this up.

  “Homestretch,” I told Benny, making the teddy bear dance out of reach.

  “Homestretch,” he echoed. But I could tell he was still a bit dizzy.

  Step-by-step, feint by feint, we led the scorp-lions toward their cages. They pounced, they batted, and they moaned, drawn to the catnip like kids to Christmas candy.

  Ten feet from the cage doors, I whirled, ready to chuck the teddy bear inside. And who should be blocking my way but Mr. Haruki Hanzomon.

  “Don’t do this,” I said. “Please.” No reason to be rude, just because he’d tried to feed us to his pets.

  “Tricks and traps,” he scoffed. “You are afraid to face the monsters in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “Heck, yeah, we’re afraid,” I said, keeping the bear moving.

  “They’re monsters, we’re kids,” Benny said.

  The billionaire sniffed. “Age doesn’t matter to a true hero.”

  “Hey, mister,” said one Animal Control worker. “You should move.”

  “I won’t,” he said.

  “Get out of the way!” I snapped, abandoning all politeness.

  “No,” said Mr. Hanzomon. “Now what will you do?”

  I glanced at the scorp-lions. They were closing in.

  Benny and I backed up until we were right in front of the scientist—caught between the madman and his monsters. We had to think fast. Something about Greek myths popped into my head.

  “Hang on,” I said. “Heroes used trickery all the time. What about that guy who blinded the Cyclops? He sneaked out of his cave under a sheep.”

  “Yeah,” said Benny. “And that dude who answered the Sphinx’s riddle, forcing her to jump off a cliff. They didn’t duke it out.”

  “Cheaters,” said Mr. Hanzomon, bristling. “Are you heroes, or are you cheaters?”

  Benny and I hoisted the catnip-filled animals high.

  The scorp-lions rushed us, frantic for their treat.

  I did the only thing I could think of—I thrust the teddy bear into the billionaire’s arms and jumped aside. Benny did the same with his pink bunny.

  “What the—?” Mr. Hanzomon sputtered.

  “All’s fair in love and war,” I said.

  “And science,” Benny added.

  Alarmed, the billionaire tried to untangle himself from the leashes and dump the stuffed toys. But he was too slow.

  PINCERS GRABBED. PAWS swung. Monsters lunged. Down went the scientist beneath the weight of his own creations.

  “Nooo!” cried Mr. Hanzomon. “Back! Get back!”

  It seemed like the scorp-lions were mostly interested in the stuffed toys. But when the scientist struggled to get out from under them, two of the creatures lashed out and stung him—fwak, fwak!

  He crumpled, moaning, “Oh, the horror.”

  “Aw, geez,” said an Animal Control worker. He made a move toward the downed billionaire. “We should help him.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Benny.

  “But he’s hurt,” said the man’s coworker, starting forward.

  I held out an arm to stop her. “And you’ll be, too, if you don’t wait.”

  “Terrible, terrible,” muttered Mr. Hanzomon, staring into space. “All my experiments, a total failure.”

  I could guess the horrors he must be seeing, having been stung before. Despite myself, I felt a pang of sympathy.

  The scorp-lions spun and writhed and bit the stuffed animals. They rolled on their backs like playful mutant kittens, purring like thunder. Finally, they collapsed onto their toys, spent. The monsters’ eyes were all pupil, making them look even creepier—if that was possible.

  “Okay…now!” said Benny.

  The Animal Control workers advanced, their elbow-length padded gloves and snare poles at the ready. Blasted out of their minds on catnip, the monsters offered little resistance. Soon the workers had nudged all four of them, along with their stuffed toys, into the cages. When Animal Control locked them up, I finally let out my breath.

  Drawn by the commotion, a few kids and parents crowded the doorway behind Esme and Tina, oohing and aahing over the scorp-lions. Several blue-suited Hanzomon employees pushed through the crowd and surrounded their boss. Giving one last whimper—“Undone by…schoolboys!”—the billionaire promptly passed out.

  Benny and I bumped fists and stood back to watch the hubbub. Within a minute or two, the wail of sirens signaled the paramedics’ approach.

  Principal Johnson turned up at my elbow. “And that’s that?” she said.

  “Pretty sure,” I said.

  She cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”

  “What about?” said Benny.

  “Your putting our wealthy donor into a coma.”

  I considered reminding her that she was the one who had promised to keep an eye on him, but you can only push things so far with a principal. “Yeah, well, that donor was the person responsible for creating and unleashing those things.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Wish I was.”

  Mrs. Johnson clucked her tongue. “But he was so generous. And he seemed like such a nice man….”

  Benny grunted. “Sure, if you define nice as nuttier than a Christmas fruitcake. He’s got a whole lab full of monsters.”

  The principal’s eyebrow arched. “And you know this how?”

  “Uh…” said Benny.

  “Don’t ask,” I said.

  She folded her arms. “Don’t ask meaning you don’t know, or don’t ask meaning I don’t want to know?”

  “Just…don’t ask,” I said.

  After all that hassle, I thought we’d at least win the science fair. But no. Not even an honorable mention. It seems you actually have to be present to demonstrate your project for the judges. And worse, you have to use real scientific methodology. On top of that, nobody even knew what we’d done, as the principal kept the whole thing under wraps.

  We settled for a warm thank-you from Mrs. Johnson and the knowledge that we still had one get-out-of-detention-free chit from her.

  As the fair was wrapping up, Benny and I stood on the side, chatting with Tina and Esme.

  “That’s the last time I let you two have all the fun,” Tina said. “Next monster that turns up, we’re fighting it together.”

  “Count on it,” I said.

  Esme wagged her head. “I still can’t believe how mean those things were.”

  “They’re monsters!” said Benny and I together.

  She shrugged. “Even so.” Then her face brightened. “Hey, I just had an idea.”

  “Careful,” said Benny. “It can be dangerous your first time
out.”

  Esme ignored him. “Why don’t I ask my mom to create some kind of antidote to the scorp-lion poison? You know, something to get those people out of their comas?”

  “Um, is your mom a real scientist?” I asked.

  Her hackles went up. “Of course,” she huffed. “It’s hard scientific work, bringing something to life. People think it’s all ‘Go steal some brains, Ygorre,’ but it’s not!”

  I raised my palms. “No offense.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” said Tina.

  Esme grinned. “That’s it, then. I’m calling her right now.”

  “And maybe she and the police can figure out what to do with all those monsters in Hanzomon’s lab,” said Benny. “Maybe start an Unnatural History Museum?”

  “Monsters, plural?” Esme smiled so widely, her ears were in danger of falling off. “That I gotta see!”

  “Esme…” Tina said, warningly.

  They wandered off to do their thing. Benny and I strolled out to the parking lot to wait for Abuelita to pick us up. Now that this danger was past, my mind went directly to the next horror show in my life: the possibility of my parents’ divorce.

  When the car pulled up, Benny and I slid into the backseat. We greeted my abuela, and he elbowed me. “We did it!” he crowed, beaming.

  “That we did,” I said.

  “What did you do?” asked Abuelita.

  Benny and I exchanged a glance. “Oh, um, a school project,” I said.

  “And we covered that ‘project’ with awesome sauce!” cried Benny.

  “And a cherry on top,” I agreed, though I felt distracted.

  Benny raised his hand. I guess my high five wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as he’d expected.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s that”—I glanced ahead at Abuelita—“other thing.”

  His eyes widened in understanding. “Ah.” He patted my arm. “Dude, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, my stomach rolling at the thought.

  The car stopped outside Benny’s house. The sun had set, and dinner hour was close at hand, but he lingered.

  “No, really,” said Benny. “After all you’ve handled? You’ll be just fine. You’re a real hero.” He clapped my shoulder and headed for his front door